Walking along the towpath in the spring air just minding my own. Feeling the silky soft swishing of my grey trackies against my legs. Hearing the special crunch made by my LA trainers -- all those little rubber studs pressing hard against the gravel with each step. What a great day to be alive -- the water glistening in the sunlight, the wind rustling the leaves. And as I was about to find out it was going to get even better.
I kept walking getting closer to the town towards the part of the canal towpath that has a bit of a 'reputation' if you know what I mean. Someone had joined the towpath and was getting closer and closer but didn't overtake me. I slowed down a little to see if he would pass but he didn't. Nothing ventured nothing gained so I turned around. He gave me a wink and a smile. Cocky lad in a baseball cap, chewing gum, cigarette perched behind his left ear. No words were necessary -- I knew what to do.
I walked about 20 yards further and cut off into the undergrowth. I leaned against a tree and waited.
He approached. Saying nothing he cupped my balls and cock in his hand and gave a squeeze. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans which hugged his thighs and arse. He wasted no time in unzipping them pulling them down around his ankles and pulling his already semi-hard dick out of his boxers. I took his dick in my hand and began to stroke. I looked at him -- he nodded and smiled and I increased the pace gripping more firmly. It din't take much encouragement from me and he was showing off his 7 inches of scally cock -- veined and throbbing.
He moved closer pressing his black rockies onto my trainers. I breathed him in -- the intoxicating mix of stale cigarette smoke and lynx deodorant. There was something else -- the just washed smell coming from his stripey polo shirt with the collar turned up. Up close I could see the hours spent on the sunbed and the scar on his left cheek that he probably got in a fight.
I wanted this to last forever so I kept stroking slow, long and hard. The scally lad was really getting into it -- eyes closed, still chewing on his gum with intent and breathing hard.
I was surprised when I felt his hand pull up my sweatshirt and tug at the waistband of my trackies. He thrust his hand down and looked a little surprised I wasn't wearing anything underneath my trackies. His rough hand started to play with my balls and cock. I could feel his 2 sovereign rings as he cupped my balls giving them another squeeze. It didn't take much more than a couple of more squeezes for me to get fully hard. He then gripped my cock with his rough hands and started to wank me off with rough, hard strokes.
I picked up the pace too. Both of us now with eyes closed, breathing ever deeper and grinning.
I could feel myself getting close to the point of no return. My bum pressed hard against the tree tighted up, my balls started to twitch and I breathed hard.
"Fuck yes" managed to cross my lips as I exploeded into my trackies -- a hot squirt with each tug from the rough hand on my cock.
In all the excitement I'd stopped stroking my scally friend.
"Look mate -- you'd better not be selfish or I might have to fucking twat you one"
He winked again and pointed at his dick.
I got down on my knees and started licking his cock head. Then I opened wide. His veined cock felt great against my lips. I started to suck him -- all wet, sloppy and noisy.
"You've done this before!"
I kept up the pace. I gripped his calves which were still encased in the black jeans. I kept up a steady pace for a couple of minutes but I could tell he was getting close. I looked up at him and he nodded.
He took control taking my head in his hands -- there was only one way this was going to play out. A few more strokes and he started to grunt and I felt him gush against the back of my throat.
He pulled out and pulled up his boxers & jeans over his still-hard dick.
"See ya mate!" was all he said giving me a wink one last time.
"You bet".